


untitled 2

by plutodolohov



Series: thoughts of a dissolved mind [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Diary/Journal, Emotional, Emotions, Fanfiction, Gen, Introspection, Love, Other, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29289345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutodolohov/pseuds/plutodolohov
Series: thoughts of a dissolved mind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149593
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	untitled 2

When did you first fall in love? 

Was it on a cold winter's night, curled up under a blanket, body-to-body with your Other? Or was it in the summer heat, laughing and smiling as your Other did that ridiculous thing again? 

I can name a hundred different ways to fall in love (might take me a few moments), but I don't speak from experience. 

My knowledge of what love is comes from all the fanfiction I read. While that may sound to you quite odd, to me it is now just a fact. 

I started reading fanfiction as a way to get more from the Harry Potter world, more of the characters I craved in new and different lights. Now, I read because that is what is familiar to me. Its like a drug that I’m addicted to, the stories stoking and awakening in me those feelings I alternatively can't seem to get enough and hate myself for feeling - and so while there is almost a full physical library worth of emotions, there is only section worth more than a passing moment for me: love.

I ache to know what it would feel like to have an Other, to curl up at night in content calm, to just hold sometime, and to kiss lightly goodbye, and to have someone to come home to on the days I feel alone. 

And I used to think that there were people who I had fallen in love with, people I knew would never love me back, and yet I pushed myself to say I loved them, to claim that which I had not. To hear myself, and to say the words, "I love you-" 

Whether that be real or not, whether the person I was saying these words to I knew well or not, whether they were straight or not, it mattered not to me in that moment, for it gave me that filling feeling, like I was the Aurora Borealis, beauty and mystery and elegance all shimmering in a sky-high throne. 

Now I know I am in love with love, and that is it. I may have a crush on a classmate, but I do not try to delude myself any longer that it may be love, or even that love would be possible. 

Except of course at night, in my dreams, when I let myself want him more than I have wanted anyone. 

But I know it matters not in the end, because I am not in love with him specifically; rather he is a placeholder I am using to give my dreams a face. He fills the place of the faceless lover in my dreams and expectations and hopes of what having an Other will be like in the future, and thus I know - and must keep knowing, to stop from falling back to how it was - that one day in the soon or far future, his face will change for someone else as I let my mind wander in its fantastical portrayals of what Love ought to be. 

I know that I am in love with Love, and I have accepted that for now. There are nights I tell myself that I don't deserve a real life lover and that I will never get one, and other nights I dream I will meet him the next day and fall in love fast and hard and finally fulfill everything. But I know in the end it does not matter, because for now, I am in love with Love - and what more can a teenage queer boy want? 

adk, 8/25/2019, 1:43 am


End file.
